Flawed Hearts
by Artimis81
Summary: When an american born halfwitch has to flee from home in order to protect her muggle father, how will her british exchange family react to the magic she posseses? Will eventually be DracoOC


**Dislclaimer: **I do NOT own Harry Potter, but I do own Aly, and her father. This is a simple fan fic, and hopefully won't end up as too much of a MS. Aly's not related to Voldemort, won't be the one to kill him either., She's not perfect, not a Griffindor or a Slytherin, though she will develop quite a crush on Draco... and hopefully vise-versa. This story is mine, and if it in anyway resembles someone elses I appologise, but i haven't read one like it so far.

**Never Again**

By: AmkG

_Never again will I cry, my tears already wasted on those undeserving. Never again will I show emotion while I fight my battles, only anger the exception. Never again will I be surrounded by those of whom I trust, for they've already been taken away. Never again will I be weak in the face of an enemy. Never again, for it would surely be the death of me._

Prologue

Pain ran up and down my spine as I felttheir curses thrown at me. None killing, only painful. I don't flinch. Their lewd comments reach my ears as I walk slowly past his ranks, at least forty of them in my line of vision. More of them are hiding nearby l know it. Whipped dogs the lot of them the Death Eaters. Only living to preserve the so-called _'life' _of their master.

Lord Voldemort, otherwise known as 'He-who-has-a-stupid-name', has gathered his remaining followers to this valley for a reason, one alone. Me. Seems to be going through a lot of trouble for the slaughter of one young witch, doesn't he?

"How nice of you to join us, Miss Grim." the raspy voice of the dark wizard reaches my ears. "I was beginning to think that we were going to have to force down those wonderfully made shields of yours."

His attempt at intimidating me is lost though. I'm stronger than him at least twenty-fold, and he knows it. Knows that I know it. Why else would he try to kill me, a seemingly insignificant American witchling, with no less than fifty grown warlocks?

"Bullshit!" I sneer at him from my spot ten meters away. His guards wouldn't let me get any closer to him, having formed a wall between us with their own bodies and wands.

"My shields are far too strong for the likes of you to break. Would've taken you months just to make a hole big enough for yourcowardly little ratto get in." At saying this I glare disdainfully at the rat animagus known as Peter Pettigrew. That pathetic excuse of a wizard has always been a loyal follower of Voldemort's, and probably would go as low as his little rat body could go just to please him.

"Such hostility towards us young one. Are you for certain that you will not join my ranks? We could do great things, you and I." As the frail looking 'He-who-has-a-stupid-name' tries once again to bribe me into his little neo Nazi group, I simply roll my eyes.

"I'd never lower myself to your standers, Riddle." I say boldly, with as much disgust in my voice as humanly possible. The bastard killed my mother; I could never be on his side.

His glowing red eyes glare at me for the use of his given name, and I smirk at his irritation. As he reaches for his wand I do something that most likely shocked them all. I disappeared.

Chapter One

As the family jet lands I can't help but be thankful. _God I hate flying in these muggle can's! _Unbuckling quickly I jump up from my cushy seat, and walk over to the exit door. One eight-hour flight overseas is enough for me.

"Mr. Grim, Alyssa, as always sits been a pleasure." our pilot, Arion, tells us via intercom. After a short pause the door opens, finally, and I start to walk down the roll-to staircase that the ground crew had pushed up to our plane.

Chuckling as he follows me, my father picks up his briefcase, and follows me down the stairs. "Not in a hurry to get off of the plane are you?" Dad asks me teasingly as I jump off of the last four steps.

"No not at all." comes my sarcastic reply as I enter the black limousine that had pulled up for the two of us. Our bags are already in the trunk so we need not wait for them. The two of us are silent for a few minuets as we leave the airport, before dad turns to me, and asks me the question I've been waiting for.

"Kitten, are you sure that you want to go through with this. I mean, our barriers held up against them last month, and they haven't tried anything since then. They might've given up you know." As my father tries to persuade me to go back home, again, I can't help but feel a little irritated.

"Daddy," I sigh," we've already been through this. It's the only way that I can stay hidden from those pricks."

"Language." Dad mutters at me, while giving me a disapproving look.

"Sorry, but that…'being' will stop at nothing until I'm on his side of the war. Voldemort knows that I'm stronger than him, and could therefore be a threat. It's better this way that I'm as far away from home as I can get. Even if I would've liked Australia better."

I mutter the last bit to myself, with a small pout on my face as I look out of my tinted window. The foggy grayness that London is famous for greetsus as our chauffeur takesus to my new temporary home. Apparently, I'm to play an American exchange student to a British muggle family called the Dursley's.

Daddyhad already checked out the Dursley family weeks before he thought of sending me to London. Mr. Vernon Dursley had once been the negotiator for a small business that dad was going to buy stuff from. I'm not quite sure what that business was, but I'm pretty sure that it had to do with tools. Something like that anyway.

"I'm sure that you'll have an enjoyable time with the Dursley's, Kitten. Mr. Dursley was a very nice man when I met him. Though slightly overweight, and having a rather particular way of thinking, I assure you that he's nothing less than a gentlemen." As father told me this I couldn't help but think… _Great, I'm being left with a fat, psycho. _

Before I could comment on my current train of thought, our chauffeur announced that we had arrived at our final destination. A place called number 4 Privet Drive. Our driver came along to my side of the limo to open my door for me. Not that I needed him to, of course. As father got out on his side of the limo, and took out my luggage.

Before me stood rows, upon rows of identical two story houses. All much the same, and all as perfectly spotless as the next. _I've died and gone to Hell… _came the unneeded thought to my non-conformist teenaged mind. _I need diversity for the sake of my sanity; all this… sameness is going to drive me mad._

Before dad or I could even make it up to the door with all of my bags a rather _large_, round man flung open the door and nearly ran out to greet us. More like waddled actually, like a giant penguin. In the doorway stood a thin woman, with a somewhat frail look to her. Obviously trying to seem stronger than she really is, her eyes were troubled, almost paranoid in a way. Mental and emotional scaring tends to do that.

"Mr. Grim! A pleasure it is to see you again Sir!" The pudgy man exclaimed, while taking my fathers hand into a slightly wild handshake. Turning to me he says, "And you must be the lovely daughter of his that he talks about so much. Can I just say that it is such an honor for you to have chosen us for your stay here, Miss. Grim? You'll enjoy your stay here I promise you." _Sound familiar? _

I merely smile, albeit uneasily, at the strange man as he took my hand for a slightly less extreme shake. To which I wiped my hand off on my baggy black jeans immediately when he turned back to my father, and I stopped paying attention to either of them. Our chauffer, Edward, then assisted me in carrying my large leather trunk to the front door, while I hefted my packed duffle bag over my shoulder.

I had to do so carefully so that the swords and daggers inside didn't make too much noise. Somehow I don't think that muggles such as these would appreciate knowing that their summer houseguest is actually a witch that hunts troubling demons on the side. Can't really picture that going down to well with what I've seen of the locals either. _These people fear change, if there housing has anything to say about it that is._

Edward then went back to the limousine, but not before whispering something to my father, which caused him to walk my way, closely followed by Mr. Dursley.

"Alyssa, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to be heading off now. An emergency came up at one of our buildings while we were in flight, and now an emergency meeting is being held at the Dublin offices in a few hours." As father tells me this he gives me an apologetic smile, and hugs me goodbye. "I'll see you in a few months, Kitten. Goodbye."

"Bye, Daddy. Luv you!" I wave back at him as he re-enters our limo and drives off. Thereby leaving me with these complete strangers. How fun… well at least he gave me a couple thousand pounds before we left the plane. That of which is now safely in the hidden pocket of my oversized black side purse.

The awkward silence that followed my dad's abrupt departure was quickly put to rest with the previously quiet Mrs. Dursley. "Well now, why don't we get you settled in? Alyssa was it?" she asks me politely as any properly raised English woman would.

"You can call me Aly if you wish, madam." I tell her with an equal amount of culture in my voice, minus the British accent… duh. "I am, after all, going to be your houseguest for the remainder of the summer."

"Splendid! Then you can call me Petunia, you darling girl. Aly, if you would please follow me then the boys can get your bags, while I show you to your room." That said the now talkative Petunia lead me into her house, up a flight of steps.

"Your father sent over some furniture for you a few weeks ago, so I hope you like the way we set it up for you. Of course Vernon can always rearrange it for you if you don't like it, that wouldn't be any trouble." The older woman told me as she led me down a short hallway. As we walked we pasted by three bedroom doors, one strangely enough, having a cat-flap-door in it, and one bathroom.

"Here we are, Alyssa. Your new room." Petunia tells me as we stop at the end of the hall, and she opens up the door. Stepping inside I take a look around my new temporary 'home'.

The walls and ceiling were of a dark blue color, and had silver etchings on the upper walls giving the illusion of the night sky. _Dad obviously had professionals sent in… _I think to myself as I look at the intricate comets and stardust. On the far side of the room was a single large window that had black drapes pulled open with silver tasseled rope held by hooks.

The furniture kept the color scheme of sliver, black, and dark blue. A dresser and nightstand of ebony sat up against the walls of my room waiting for me to fill them up with my clothing. And to my delight a large four-poster canopy bed, also of ebony, was waiting for me in the corner by the window. It's dark blue comforter partially folded down to expose black satin sheets.

Turning to the woman that I had only met moments before I give her a quick hug. "Thank you so very much, Petunia! I like it a lot." Smiling up at the woman she gives me one in kind and helps me drag my bags into my new room.

"No trouble at all, dear. Your father did most of it. Not a bother at all." This said we enter again enter a few moments of awkward silence as Mr., Mrs. Dursley, and their son… Pugley or something like that, stare at me with a strange look on their faces. _They better not be cannibals! _I think to myself, just a bit paranoid, before I finally crack.

"What? What are you staring at?" I ask them, turning my head around every which way to look for… whatever it is they are bloody staring at. It's getting really annoying.

"Well, um… you see, your clothing is… ah a bit peculiar. Not that it doesn't suit you or anything… What I mean is to say that, well… you look." I gaze blankly at the round Mr. Dursley as he flounders hopelessly, and doesn't seem to be able to find the words to whatever it is he's trying to say. That is until his butt ugly son puts in his two cents worth.

"You look like a freak!" he points out rather rudely, earning a scolding from both of his parents. _Stupid British muggles. _I merely raise one of my slender eyebrows at them however at look down at my attire.

_I must admit that I do look rather… well not freakish per say, more punk_. Especially in my baggy black jeans, black and red layered tank top, and my black leather fingerless gloves on my hands. The combat boots on my feet, and the electric blue highlights framing my face probably didn't help much either. _Or maybe it's the chains…_

Looking back up at them I ask them darkly. "That's not a problem for you is it." At their quick denial I smirk at them before informing them something they should have already known. "I'm an American. Deal with it, it's not gonna change." This said I turn around and start unpacking.

Out of the mirror on my dresser I can see them nod their heads excessively, and leave me to my unpacking. Not to mention to my own peace and quiet that I've been craving ever since I entered this country. _This jet lag's sucks… _I think to myself, before flopping down onto my new bed for a quick nap.

A few hours later I'm woken from my slumber by the sound of someone knocking at my door. Letting out a slight groan of dismay I go to answer it, after making my way past the things that I have yet to put away, that is. Only to be greeted by someone I have yet to meet.

"My aunt told me to fetch you for supper." The new boy tells me. He's much more attractive than his pig of a cousin, Duggy, or whatever that fat boys name is. _Still not my type though…_

The boy before me has a bit of muscle to him, even if he seems to be underfed. His hair is a messy array of black, has eyes of emerald green, and strangely enough has a faint red scar on his forehead that vaguely resembles a lightning bolt. Not that I can judge mind you, I have my own fair amount of scarring. _Both bodily and otherwise…_

"Um… kay. Who are you again?" I ask him quickly as I follow him through the hall, and down the first set of stairs. At the landing between the two flights of steps he turns to me and gives me a rather peculiar look.

"Harry Potter." He takes this point in time to look at my punkish attire, but luckily for him doesn't question my choice in clothing. If I didn't know any better I would think that Harry was actually surprised at my civil manner towards him. _These people are weird…_

"You?" Harry asks me with a raised eyebrow.

"Aly Grim. Nice to meet you Harry." I tell him with a smile as we continue on our quest to the kitchen, and ultimately food.

"Likewise" Harry tells me with a slight blush and smile..

Upon reaching the dinning room I can't help but breath in the delicious smells coming from it, and the kitchen. There are two small chickens, potatoes, carrots, greens, gravy, rolls, and one very large roasted something. I can also see a few pies and a weird looking pudding-type-thing on the kitchen counter, but I'm not a big fan of pie and don't even want to know what the pudding thing is.

"Alyssa, please, come sit with us. We promise we won't bite." the large Mr. Dursley tells me while pulling out the chair between Petunia and his pig of a son. _Better watch myself now…Puggy might be territorial over the food_. I think to myself sarcastically. _Then again maybe that's why Petunia's so skinny._

"Yeah, but does she?" the little pig boy mutter under his breath, earning himself a stern glare from his father. _Stupid git doesn't know that I can hear him. I'm not deaf you know you bloody idiot! _My eye twitches at the very thought of biting him. _He'd probably clog my arteries or something, leave a nasty taste in my mouth at the very least. Choke on the fat…_

"I hope you like it." chimes in Petunia's rather nervous voice. Noticing the direction of her gaze I can tell that she's looking at Harry in an almost fearful way_. Strange, he doesn't seem all that scary to me. Weird, paranoid, British muggles…_

Before I can ponder her odd reaction to he boy she continues, "I wasn't quite sure on what you would like so I made something a bit traditional for tonight. It's nothing too fancy, I know, but I've been told that I am a very good cook."

"I'm sure that it'll be delicious, Mrs. Dursley." I reassure the older woman, "I haven't had a home cooked meal in so long that this'll be a welcome development."

"Well then don't just sit there! Dig in before these boys eat it all." she tells me in a teasing voice. Though for some reason I have no doubt that the two gluttons across from me would do just that.

Using the cutting knife I slice off one of the chickens legs, since it happens to be right in front of me. Spooned some mashed potatoes onto my plate as they pass me, before drowning it in gravy. And finally, I grab myself a roll from the basket.

That should hold me until breakfast time tomorrow, with all the time change I'm not even that hungry yet. As I eat my food quietly and somewhat slowly I grimace at the way the two gluttons in the room consume their meals. _It's quite disgusting actually, spittle and food flying everywhere_. I can't even hold in my twitch as some of Puddlys crumbs land on my clean, unused napkin.

I shake it off though and finish the last of my meal, just casually listening to the conversation around me when something rather peculiar happens. An large bird knocks at the window. A bird that I know is not natural to the London area, seeing as it is a rare breed from the southern marsh lands, a Bittern.

As the bird continues to peck at the window panes the muggles around me stare at it in shock. With the exception of Harry though, he seems to be fidgeting, as if he wants to go to look at the bird but is having a mental dilemma. I, of course, decide to remove the problem.

Calmly as possible, as to not scare the bird or the muggles, I stand up from my chair, and make my way around the table towards the window. Their eyes widen slightly as if they forgot I was here, and Harry's eyes dart between the bird and me. When I reach the window I bend down a bit to get a better look at the strange creature.

It's a rather large bird; bigger than a duck but smaller than a swan, and is of the heron family. The Bittern's longish dagger-shaped beak peaks at the windowpane once more when it sees that I've yet to open it. Yellow eyed and bent over the bird lets out its strange call, 'oo-wumph'!

The call, catching me by surprise, causes me to jump away from the window and crouch down slightly. You can never know after all, one of Voldemorts men could be hiding in the bushes, or even be the bird itself. _Bloody animagi…_

Petunia's soft cry lets me know that she has fainted, probably for the best. While Vernon jumps out of his chair, and Pudley falls out of his to hide under the table. Harry just stands, in much the same way I did just moments before, and walks hesitantly over to the Bittern and I.

"What is it?" he asks me with curiosity, not fear, in his voice. _Strange, I would think that a muggle would react differently to this type of situation…_

"It's called a Bittern, I think…" I tell him uncertainly. After all, I've never had the experience of seeing one of these birds alive before. "They're native to the southern marshlands of the world, and are very secretive. It really shouldn't be here…"

Turning to the other teen I can notice his gaze is focused on the birds long, greenish legs. And after following said gaze I see that the bird has something tied to it. _For gods sake, it's a Bittern not a bloody pigeon! _

"The poor thing. Some idiot tied a paper to it's leg!" getting up from my crouched position I walk out to the back door in the adjoining kitchen that I spotted earlier. _If it is one of Voldie's boys he's going to be in quite a lot of pain for interrupting my dinner._

"No!", Harry shouts in a panic. These Brits are so strange I swear… "I.. I'll get it. You stay here." he tells me. _As if . _"It could be dangerous."

"So… That's never stopped me before. Besides," I tell him, "It's just a bird. What harm could it do?"


End file.
